Daggers and Deception
by ladymori
Summary: It’s been a while since George Cooper was known as the King of Thieves. But when an old and sinister enemy kidnaps him to get revenge on Alanna of Pirate’s Swoop, this old rogue must dust off his daggers to keep himself alive.
1. The Deadly Deal

**Disclaimer:** I am not Tamora Pierce, and therefore, I don't own any of the following. Well, give or take some names and places.

The room was almost completely black when the man entered. Torches scattered about seemed to cast more dark then light; shadows crawled over the stone floor, stretching and distorting the items in the room. The man suppressed a shiver. Tate was a gruff mountain man, hardly anything scared him. But this room did. Perhaps it was because he didn't know who he was meeting. Or maybe it was because he had never participated in illegal doings before- only a year long famine and concern for his family had caused him to take up the cloaked person's offer in the tavern months ago.

Taking a breath, he smoothed out his tunic and called into the darkness, "Hello? I'm here for a meeting?" His deep voice seemed to echo, distorted and mocking.

Tate heard a swishing noise from somewhere in the shadows. "Did you do it?" The voice was soft, but the man detected a sinister note.

Clearing his throat, the man replied, "Could you come out of the shadows?" The situation made him nervous.

Ignoring his words, the voice repeated, more forcefully, "Did you do it? Did you send the message to the Baron of Pirate's Swoop?"

He shuffled his feet, staring at the ground instead of the direction of the bodiless voice. "I sent the message. The Baron thinks he's to meet his agent Rinley at the Ruddy Vixen Resthouse as soon as possible. I made it sound urgent; the Baron should be leaving within the next few days."

"Excellent," the voice drawled. "Your task is done, come and I'll give you your payment." Tate started forward, relieved that his time is this room would soon be over. A pale white hand thrust out of the shadows. Dangling from it was an open purse filled with gold coins. Tate's eyes widened. It was even better than the person in the tavern had promised. As he reached out to grab the purse, a glint of silver caught his eye. "No!" he gasped as the sword came whistling through the air. The man collapsed, his throat cut, and the purse dropped from his hands.

As coins rolled everywhere, the killer smiled. Their plan had finally been set in motion successfully. They would capture the spymaster George Cooper at the Ruddy Vixen within the week. After taking care of the baron, they could finally get their revenge on the real source of their hatred- Alanna of Pirate's Swoop.

A/N: I know this is short, but it is really only a bit of prologue/background info and really not the _actual_ story. But it is important, so keep with me. Please rate!


	2. Tricking a Thief

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the following characters. Which is sad, because I would _love_ to own George…;-)

**Summary: **It's been a while since George Cooper was known as the King of Thieves. But when a mysterious and sinister enemy kidnaps him to get revenge on Alanna of Pirate's Swoop, this old rogue must dust off his daggers to keep himself alive.

**A/N:** Sorry, I had to reload this chappie to fix a few things. I also added quite a whole new part at the end.

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"Gotcha!" Leaping over a cluttered desk, George Cooper, Baron of Pirate's Swoop, grabbed the hidden figure crouched underneath.

"Aw da! You always find me!" Thom, his oldest son, cried.

Scooping him up into his arms, George tweaked his nose. "It took me much longer to find you this time, lad. Before you know it, you'll be able to hide right in front of me!" While Thom laughed happily at this prospect, George grinned. It was his favorite game to play with his children- hiding and seeking. It trained them to be careful for the future, and it kept him in shape. Not that those talents would be needed any time soon; George spent his time at the desk Thom had been hiding under. Paperwork and reports filled his days, instead of the mischief and intrigue that came from being the Rogue. Not that he regretted giving it up and turnin' respectable, but some times he was more aware of the changes it entailed than others.

A cough at the door startled George out of his musings. "Yes?" It was Nareek, a Bazhir servant at the Swoop.

"A message for you, Baron. It looks like it has to do with_ business_." Business was their code word- it meant spying. Nareek held out a sealed envelope.

Setting Thom down, George told him, "I have work to do, lad. I promise we'll play more later."

Thom groaned, before his face lit up. "Can I go play with the twins?" Twins Alan and Alianne were only two years old, but a source of great joy for their brother.

Ruffling his hair, George considered. "Make sure their not sleeping, and even then, only if it's okay with Maude."

Hugging his father quickly, Thom turned and ran out of the room calling out for his nursemaid. With that taken care of, George waved Nareek forward. Taking the envelope from him, he inquired Nareek if he was sure that it came from one of their own. The Bazhir nodded. "The one delivering the message checked out; he was just a normal man from Fedor." Fedor was a city two day's ride from the Swoop. "I didn't open the letter so I'm not sure about the contents," Nareek added.

Nodding his thanks, George dismissed him. Taking the letter, he sat down at his desk and slit it open. It was a message from one of his best agents- Rinley. Checking the code, George confirmed that it was the one he taught; the letter was definitely real. Reading quickly, he surmised that Rinley had some information too important for writing. He requested to meet with him at the Ruddy Vixen Resthouse, over in Fedor.

He leaned back in his chair. A trip to Fedor might be good for him, give him a chance to stretch his legs. Besides, Rinley was vital to him. If it was as important as he said it was, he did not want to risk sending another agent.

With that decided, George alerted the household to his plans. It didn't take long before his bags were packed and the guards informed. The Swoop was used to both he and Alanna leaving suddenly. Alanna hadn't actually been there in weeks- she had been called off to help settle a dispute somewhere on the Scanra-Tortall border. As George said good bye to the family that remained, he felt a little sad. While he would miss his children, he would only be gone a few days. He was worried that while he was gone, Alanna would come back. Shaking off the feeling, George reminded himself that it was unlikely. Alanna wasn't expected for at least another week; it was foolish to deny himself some fun on the off chance that she would return early.

Pulling his cloak up to cover his face, George jumped on the saddled mare one of the hostlers had brought to him. Turning the black horse around, he waved to his family once more, before he galloped down the road.

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Kerrek whistled out a pretty tune as he washed and rinsed out mugs. The Ruddy Vixen Resthouse had been busy lately, and he had been forced to do some of the cleanin' himself. _It would be best if I hired some more help_, he thought to himself. _Perhaps I can have someone ask around the city. _His musings were interrupted as a burst of cold night air flooded the inn. He looked up to see a cloaked figure entering. The man moved slowly and confidently, almost with a cat like grace. Pushing back his hood, he sat down at the bar and ordered a meal.

As Kerrek quickly brought him his food, he noticed several things. For one the man hadn't ordered ale, or rum, or anything like that. Secondly, while he ate hungrily, Pretty Nell, the regular Ruddy Vixen lady friend, flounced up to him. Instead of staring at her and going to a secluded corner, he dismissed her advances. _He must have a real special lady at home to say no to Pretty Nell, _Kerrek thought. _**Nobody** says no to Pretty Nell. _

Polishing off his plate, the stranger pushed back his stool and stood. He smiled good naturedly at Kerrek when he noticed his eyes on him. Sheepishly, Kerrek smiled in return. _Seems like a charmin' fellow, if I ever saw one._

"Sir, I'm lookin' for a friend of mine. About this high," the man held out his arm. "He's got light blonde hair, curly in a way. You seen him?"

Kerrek scratched his head before he nodded. "He's up in room 9. Should I bring ya up?"

The stranger shook his head. "Thanks, but I'll go myself." He nodded his head. "'Night."

Kerrek shook his head as he watched the stranger climb up the inn's stairs. It was amazing how that woman had known a stranger of that description would come looking for a man such as that. The woman had told him a few days earlier to be on the lookout for a man with laughing hazel eyes, a rather large nose, and a charming smile. When he saw someone of that description, and they asked about a blonde haired somebody, he was supposed to send them to room 9. The woman had given him a couple gold pieces for his service. Shrugging his shoulders, Kerrek decided that the matter was over and out of his hands, and started washing the soiled plates the man had just used.

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When George reached room 9, he knocked three long knocks on the door, followed by two short soft ones. Being extra careful had never hurt anyone. The door creaked open, revealing a shadowed room. A figure stood in front of a warm fireplace, it could be Rinley, but George wasn't sure.

Crossing his arms, he carefully unsheathed two daggers. He might not be the Rogue anymore, but he wasn't ignorant. "Rinley?" he called softly, testing beyond the doorway with his foot. The figure nodded, but George sensed something wasn't right. With a quick movement, he flung a dagger to his right, hitting a man square in the chest. He grabbed another blade tucked under his belt. He was pushed entirely into the room and the door was slammed shut. Settling on the balls of his feet, George listened intently. If he couldn't see his attackers, he would have to listen for them.

There. A shuffle to the left. Reaching out, he swung his arm in an arc, slitting the throat of one of the men. Grunting, another man threw himself on George's back. Twisting his arm free, George stabbed him in the ribs, then tossed him off. More men came at him. George lost count as he blocked, swiped, and fought. More and more men went down at the hands of George's weapons. Wiping at his forehead with a bloodstained sleeve, he inhaled deeply. There were too many of them, he couldn't fight them all.

Suddenly a force slammed into the back of his skull. As he struggled to stay standing, the figure by the fire turned around and pushed back their cloak. A mass of brown curls tumbled out, framing a charming face lit up by electric green eyes. The woman moved over and stood in front of George as he fought to stay conscious. "Good night, George. We'll have to catch up later."

As his eyes rolled back into his head and he sunk to the floor, George managed to utter a single word. "Delia…."

A/N:-D Review Review! I hope you like the villain, I felt it was odd that she was just stranded in prison. More will be explained in the next section.


	3. Old Enemies of Eldorne

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Just for fun.

**Summary:** George is kidnapped by Delia of Eldorne.

**A/N:** My muse for this story kind of ran far far away, but I will continue to update randomly. The majority of my time and energy is going to George Cooper Beginnings.

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"Ahhhh." George couldn't help but let a low moan escape him as he slowly regained consciousness. The back of his head was throbbing, a little souvenir from the fight. As he tried to move his hands to see how bad the damage was, he was dismayed to find out he couldn't. Both hands were securely connected to the wall, clasped in thick iron chains.

Opening a bleary eye, George scanned his surroundings as his mind struggled to wake. The room was dark; the few torches attached to the walls cast little light. Damp flagstones pressed into his back and the smell of mildew assaulted his nose. _Probably a dungeon,_ his mind quickly assessed. Delia must have thrown him down here when he was knocked unconscious.

Delia. That was a disturbing thought. What was Delia of Eldorne doing out of prison? Convicted of plotting against King Jonathan, Delia was the only ringleader left from the bloody fight on the day of Jon's coronation. She was supposed to be serving out a life sentence in prison. _Surely, no one had her pardoned,_ George thought._ She must have broken out._ The thought was not a comforting one.

George moved his hands again, testing the chains. The heavy links clanked loudly as they met. He cursed silently; the metal was strong and solid. Unfortunately, it looked like Delia had learned a few tricks in prison. Rope bindings he easily could have escaped. The iron chains were not impossible, but they would take more thinking and effort to free himself.

George stopped moving as he heard the soft sound of approaching footsteps. Leaning back against the wall, taking care not to hit the bruise on his head, he closed his eyes and feigned unconsciousness.

"Open your eyes. You're not fooling me." George kept his eyes tightly shut as Delia's breathy voice echoed through the dungeon. He heard her let out a tiny sigh, and sensed her foot moving. Before her pointed heel could reach his body, George's arm snapped out, grabbing her foot and twisting.

Instead of anger, Delia laughed and slipped out of her shoe. "I knew you weren't still unconscious. My brutes are strong, but they don't hit _that_ hard."

George dropped the shoe, but kept it close. Even a thing as simple as a hard and pointed slipper could serve as a weapon. "How?" he asked simply.

"What, no hugs? No welcomes?" she pouted. George narrowed his hazel eyes in a fierce glare. "Fine." She tossed her brown waves over a shoulder contemptuously. "I'm not sure if you knew, but I was known as quite the flirt back in Corus."

"I've heard," George responded dryly.

Delia smoothed her gown in a gesture of mock embarrassment. She raised her gaze back to George's. "In prison, I never changed. I played my hand right, talking to the right men, winking at whoever had the most power. Soon, a few of my admirers were released-"

"Released or broke out?" Normally George wouldn't interrupt someone during a confession- they may realize what they're doing and clam up. Delia, however, seemed like she wouldn't stop talking even if the dungeon ceiling threatened to cave in on their heads. He felt no reservation about interrupting her.

Delia fluttered her lashes. "Some released, some broke out." Her eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't appreciate a second interruption. Keep that in mind." Within a moment, the spasm of anger passed and the charming court lady was back. "Once they were out, they were determined to break me out. I rewarded them well of course. Now that I had my freedom, what was I to do? There was one person I was always thinking about during my jailing. The one person responsible for my imprisonment, the one person responsible for the failing of my plan. Responsible for the death of Roger."

"Alanna." It wasn't a question, George knew he was right.

A sick smile flashed across Delia's beautiful features. "How smart you are. Last time I saw you, you were nothing but a thief. I suppose alot changes in ten years, hm?"

"You could never harm Alanna- she'd kill you."

The woman nodded. "I've heard all about the adventures of the Lioness. Any man who goes up against her dies at the hand of her sword. But I'm not going up against her, I'm bringing about her demise in a different way. You. George of Pirate's Swoop, wife of Alanna of Pirate's Swoop. With your death, Alanna will be destroyed emotionally, and my boys can easily kill her."

George's stomach twisted. "Are you going to kill me then? You might want to get on with it."

"I'm not going to kill you straight away. With Alanna's gift, she'll be able to sense you. Sense that you're in trouble, but she won't be able to do anything about it." She rubbed her emerald silk clad arms. "I'm getting a chill, dungeons are such dreadful places. I'm sure I'll be seeing you later George." She fluttered her pale fingers towards George before disappearing into the shadows.

George watched her go, before he shook his head. He didn't plan to be around for any more visits. Bending his legs up, he twisted his back until he could reach into his boots. He also kept a set of lock picks tucked into the leather, just for the unpredictable. Instead of pulling out the metal picks, George pulled out a creamy piece of parchment. Written in elegant lettering, was the message

"George-

I meant what I said- you can't leave me that easily. I have some fun games planned for us.

Lovingly yours,

Delia"

George crumpled the paper into a ball and stuffed it back into his boot. It would take more to escape this situation than he had first thought.

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**A/N**: Meh. Review and such. Like I said, this story isn't my top priority anymore, and it's not very good. But I hope some of you are enjoying it.


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